


Pick Up the Broken Pieces of Me

by MahalsBeard



Series: Bring Me Into Your Arms [1]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Auctions, Betrayal, Bottom Aomine Daiki, Comfort/Angst, Dubious Consent, Gen, M/M, Russian Mafia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-10 15:44:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8922979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MahalsBeard/pseuds/MahalsBeard
Summary: "The day that basketball stopped rolling on the side of my feet and met him, I was saved..." 
"If only he knew that this time, I'm trying to save him in return..." 
 
Murasakibara never dreamed for those midnight blue eyes to look at him with such fear.  The pile of money scattered on the sheets the glaring proof of their contract. 
 
AU:  YakuzaMurasakibara, CopAomine - inspired by the BL Anime: "Okane Ga Nai"





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi Everyone! Sooooo this is THE reason why I have yet to update my MuraAo fic, "Give Me Your Smile and Your Tears".
> 
> As I've told some of you, this is supposed to be a oneshot...but...I've come to think I can't squeeze it all in one submission if I'm being honest with myself so here I am and posting the first half. I'm reaching the climax part and the end sooo I hope you'll be patient for that as well.
> 
> Of course for my other fic, the fifth or sixth..? chapter will be posted before the second half of THIS story. :))

_His body radiated with numbness_ _._  

 

_Although t_ _he left side of his head felt like it was whacked open with a metal pole, several scratches littered the_ _skin from his cheek down to his neck, a large bruise along with smaller ones_ _were_ _purpling his bicep, and a fresh gash on the side of his wrist bled, he couldn't feel the pain.  Or maybe because there was too_ _much of it that_ _his body automatically cancelled this crucial information to travel up his brain._  

 

_The opaque red liquid flowed like crawling roots from his open wound and slowly fell on the ground;_ _creating a small puddle of blood on the rough pavement.  He stared at it and for a moment was fascinated with how much more he can make the circle of red bigger just from this laceration_ _alone._ _Goodness,  was_ _he_ _crazy._ _But his own bleeding arm amused him like he was high_ _on_ _coc_ _aine_ _._  

 

_He meant to laugh._ _Ye_ _t the attempt only released a choking wheeze_ _t_ _hrough_ _his lips._ Damn. _I_ _t_ _was only now that he could confirm_ _some of his ribs had been broken when that lowly mongrel kneed him on his chest.  He was sure the bastard was wearing_ _a metal cap beneath those jeans_ _._  

 

_Murasakibara spat out the rusty taste off his tongue and moved his jaw while ignoring the sharp pain it caused_ _.  His lips weren't split and surprisingly his nose wasn't also broken.  I_ _t somehow satisfied him that his strategy to only make one side of his body vulnerable kind of paid off._ _Compared to the damage given to him, t_ _hose_ _low lives_ _would surely be found confined in a hospital_ _for weeks without much face to front on their boss._  

 

_The tall man's musing was interrupted when an orange ball came to halt by the side of_ _his shoe_ _.  He noticed the slight smudge of his own blood on its surface before rubber soles screeched to a stop a few meters from him._  

 

_"You guys threw the ball so far!  What kind of amateur pass was that?"_  

 

_Murasakibara kept his position on the lone bench situated_ _just outside the court of some_ _park._ _When he came to sit down before his legs gave out, he belatedly realized_ _he had been walking through what was most likely an extension of a private lot._ _Of what_ _establishment,  he_ _has no idea._  

 

_Right now though, all he wanted was to stay still and not move for a few more hours before he had to think of a way on how he could go back to his residence.  Last thing he needed was the possibility of_ _someone_ _seeing him in this state.  He would be lucky if this_ _guy was one of those_ _assholes who would choose to ignore a battered up person like him.  He had much to_ _hope_ _for._ _Their world was rotten like that anyway._  

 

_He thought he was alone again when his ears was graced_ _with silence but then almost had to sacrifice furthering the damage on his ribs when_ _his arm instinctively braced to throw an attack towards the approaching figure._ _Luckily, the_ _other man knew how to skillfully lock the motion of his arm without putting much strain on his_ _burning_ _torso_ _._  

 

_"Hey...calm down."  A smooth voice penetrated his geared up mind and Murasakibara's eyes landed on focused_ _mi_ _dnight_ _blue ones._  

 

_"Are you—"  The other man began and yet_ _cut himself off as soon as he saw the source of the red smudge newly_ _painted_ _on_ _the basketball._  

 

_He had been playing with his_ _colleagues_ _in the police academy when one of his teammates_ _unwittingly threw the ball so hard on a spot where no one was there to receive the pass_ _.  He had offered to retrieve it and had to double take as soon as he saw the slumped huge frame sitting so still on the bench.  Equipped with some training as a new_ _student in the police academy_ _, he immediately zoned in on the small puddle of blood staining the concrete.  Then on the obvious gash on the person'_ _s wrist._  

 

_"You're bleeding!"  The man said._  

 

_Murasakibara rolled his eyes._   How about stating the obvious.  Just fucking leave me alone. 

 

_But the man didn't leave and the next thing Murasakibara felt were gentle fingers carefully_ _turning_ _his arm for him_ _to_ _take_ _a better_ _look_ _.  He was stiff and_ _confused_ _that he let the other move his arm._ _Any other time he would already give this guy a broken limb_ _for his kindness._ _Murasakibara didn't need to see the man standing up beside him to tell that he was still taller than him.  The other thing that made him wonder though, was the exotic tan shade of the man's skin as they contrasted against his._  

 

_Slender fingers were snapping in front of his face and he found himself looking straight into the dark blue irises again._  

 

_"Hey, I said you need stitches.  This is a nasty cut.  What the hell have you gotten into?"  The man's voice sounded as if he was scolding him.  It was odd.  He was rarely_ _reprimanded in his own household and yet this guy was speaking to him without reservations.  He wasn't even exactly questioning him._  

 

_He was showing genuine_...concern?   _To a_  stranger  _like him_.   _To someone most people would not dare come close to—not only due to his size—but for the reputation of his family that seemed to be plastered on his face wherever he went despite_ _how much he tried to blend in_ _._  

 

_"You've got to help me out here.  I can't exactly carry you.  And you still need to get those stitches."  The man was speaking the whole time Murasakibara's brain seemed to have drifted off as he stared at the man's fussing._  

 

_"Give me your phone."  He heard himself say._  

 

_The tan man briefly_ _assessed_ _him then sighed before he dug out something from his pocket and handed him his mobile._  

 

_Murasakibara was quite surprised the man had actually lent him his phone_ _without question_ _but didn't dwell on it as he noticed the_ _sky starting_ _to darken--which meant that if he wasn't home at the agreed time, something awful might occur_ _.  It kind of embarrassed him that at his age, he_ _was_ _still bound to follow these protocols.  He_ _dialed his home number and murmured precise instructions to the person on the other line.  Before he was able to return the device, a cool palm caress_ _ed his forehead._  

 

_"You might be running a fever."  The tanned man whispered, brows creased as he felt his temperature._  

 

_He closed his eyes momentarily_ _to wallow in the rare sensation._  

 

_Murasakibara couldn't help but lay his own palm over the other for a few seconds._ _Been quite a_ long while _since_ _anyone's touched him this way.  He felt a slight roughness on the palm but the unhesitant way it touched him made him remember something._ Something _he was thinking of throwing away.  He_ _squeezed_ _it a bit before taking it into his bigger hand so he can_ _give_ _back the phone._  

 

_"What's your name?"  He asked._  

 

_There was a bit of silence between them as they looked into each other's eyes.  Both of them being caught in the moment of peculiar tension._  

 

_"A—Aomine..."  The man finally answered._  

 

_"Thank you, Aomine...-_ _san_ _."  Murasakibara was aware he sounded awkward at the end of his sentence.  He never had to politely address someone younger or the same age as he was._  

 

_"Yours?"_ _Aomine_ _prompted._  

 

_"You can call me_ Mura. _"  He answered._  

 

_From the moment Murasakibara asked the other man's name, he knew he wouldn't forget it.  Saying his own name in return was almost automatic; i_ _f it weren't only for the fact that he shouldn't actually state his family name._  

 

_He went home and had a new_ resolve _to carry with him_. 

 

.. 

**_Five years later_** ** _._**  

... 

 

"Today's final merchandise will seem very...hmm...let's say  _idiosyncratic_."  The decorous voice resounded in the dim lit room.  Its owner an elegant-looking man wearing an Armani three-piece suit without a single lint to be exposed on its surface even as the light shone directly upon him.  With a properly brushed up dark mane, the two silver stripes on each side of his head were the only indications of his age.  

 

"What could this filthy old git be up to again?  What  _merchandise_ can he offer us that's not either a tamed virgin  _cat_ or a kidnapped noble heir of some unknown land.  And really,  introducing it himself?  He must be pretty confident with this."  Fingers combed through golden locks agitatedly and went around a pale neck. 

 

A small chuckle came out of another man's lips. 

 

"Why, Kise- _chin._ Is Kuroko giving you trouble?  You've been pissed this whole time."   

 

"I'm not pissed Murasakibaracchi!"  Kise glared at his friend.  "And Kuroko's not giving me  _any_  trouble."  He puffed out and crossed his arms in front of his chest as he pouted. 

 

"Oh?  Then...he's become so obedient lately that it's not exciting you anymore?"   

 

Sharp yellow eyes glanced at him but the man kept silent. 

 

_Ah...so he was right._ He remembered how Kuroko was when Kise had just bought him.  His face was like made of stone.  It never changed expressions.   _B_ _ut_  his cold eyes reflected everything he didn't or couldn't show through his face.   _Maybe_ _nowadays,  he_ _wasn't even fighting Kise's advances anymore.  Kise had never been a mean owner anyway._ He only threw out his money in order to 'rescue' the kid from nasty  _perverts_.  There was also the possibility that Kuroko might have already fallen for his owner. 

 

The sound of wheels smoothly rolling on the stage halted and a huge box, covered in red velvet cloth, was locked in place in the middle of the auction platform. 

 

Kise looked around him, taking in the excited expressions on each of the participants' faces, before speaking to his friend. 

 

"I'm surprised all of these people are anticipating what this old man's going to show us."  Kise perked up as he looked at Murasakibara's bored expression.  "Oh and maybe this time, it would convince you to buy  _something_ for yourself." 

 

"Me?"  A snort.  "Nah..."  The taller man tossed back the bourbon he was nursing and made a move to pour his refill.  "I'm not interested."   

 

The other man shrugged and took his wine glass. 

 

"You're always  _not_ interested.  That's why even Akashicchi's getting worried about your monotonous life."  Kise sighed. 

 

The illumination within the hall have been dimmed further and the strobe lights were repositioned towards the covered box.  Two men in suit stopped on each side of it.  The main host of the night once again turned on the microphone and enjoyed the impatience of his audience for a few moments before gesturing his men to slide off the draped fabric. 

 

A loud thump, albeit slightly muffled, echoed on the stage right when the cloth was taken away.  A wide-framed glass cage emerged on their sights.  The presence of a lean figure inside it was unmistakable for the person's sun-kissed skin glistened like gold from the directed spotlight. 

 

The secret auditorium was enveloped in silence. 

 

"Everyone!  I present you with my final merchandise for tonight.  He's—"   

 

Another thump sounded from within the glass box.  The host chuckled.  His product was still trying to defy him despite the drugs injected into his system. 

 

"He's a feisty one.  Compared to our previous collection, this one knows his way in fights.  But nothing anyone can't handle, I assure you.  Although it is no longer rare for me to present wild  _pets_ , I know one of you will thoroughly enjoy breaking into this one." 

 

One thump followed by another was heard again and the host smiled towards his assistants to give them permission to open the cage. 

 

A number code was punched on the password panel and the cage's door landed over the spread of the platform, together with the naked tanned figure who was leaning his weight on it from the beginning.  The clatter of chains vibrated on the glass as it moved along with the man.  One assistant took hold of the collar around his neck and pulled it up in order to reveal the man's face. 

 

A few pleasured gasps came from the interested bidders. 

 

"As you can see, this man is over the age preference I usually present here.  However, I do hope that this particular detail won't dampen your interest." 

 

The number of people who agreed to that statement had been enormous.  And so, the host carried on without preamble. 

 

"He is of mixed descent—Japanese and Mediterranean blood.  Also of note is his exotic sun-kissed skin.  Smooth and unmarred.  Body structure is matured but muscle form is slender."    

 

"Let us see his face more closely."   

 

The camera was zoomed in and the view on the huge screen mounted on one of the auditorium's walls presented the distinctive and handsome features of the collared man.  His midnight blue eyes were glazed over, the skin from his chest up to his cheeks were flushed rose-red, and his fine lips were half-open in voiceless resistance.  Wild bangs framed his face and tips of silky navy hair reached up over his nape.   

 

Appreciative comments immediately bustled around the room.  

 

"Of course, as I'm aware all of you are waiting to know, we guarantee that his  _back_ is virginal." 

 

The men in suit knelt down simultaneously, moved the  _merchandise_ in a sitting position, and firmly held each of the tanned man's legs to spread them.  It took some effort to keep them apart as the man tried to take control of his body; thigh muscles contracting momentarily if one was to pay attention.  His attempt was inevitably for naught and the man had to control himself from whimpering when he was pushed backward diagonally to make way for a clearer view of his exposed  _back_. 

 

"The highest bidder who will purchase him can confirm this with his  _or her_  own eyes."  The host smirked as he concluded the description of his product.       

 

"The bid will start at 50 million." 

 

And then the chorus of bidding began.  A mix of voices echoed in all corners of the auditorium with men being the dominant sound. 

 

"60!" 

 

"65!" 

 

"70!" 

 

"80!"  

 

"85!"  …  "90!"  …  "100!"  …   

 

"150!"  Kise shouted his own bid.   

 

_How interesting..._   It was more than what he was expecting for the bid to reach but he sure as hell can spare more money for  _this_.     

 

"We have 150 million.  Are there any further bids?  No?" 

 

"I hear nobody.  Then for 150 million..." 

 

Kise almost dropped his wine glass when he saw his friend approaching the stage; a huge metal briefcase by his side and gripping its handle in a chokehold. 

 

Before the gavel was struck against the sound block, Murasakibara opened his briefcase and laid out the multiple wad of bills piled up in the metal container. 

 

"Two hundred million.  Cash."  He spoke through gritted teeth. 

 

The screech of a chair echoed around the hall.  Amethyst eyes connected with yellow ones.  But with how hard Murasakibara was glaring at him, Kise knew he was going to have to give  _this_  up.  He slowly raised one eyebrow before conceding and crossing his arms as he sat back down. 

 

… 

 

"Remove his collar at once.  I don't want to see him with it."  Murasakibara's deep voice quietly reverberated in the private suite.  He had just finished signing all the papers for his purchase and was now waiting for the panting figure to be wrapped up with a robe.  He had wanted him to be dressed properly but with the drugs still acting in the tanned man's system, being touched multiple times will make him more uncomfortable.  And Murasakibara wasn't permitting more unnecessary skin contacts by  _these_  people. 

 

He fisted his hands at his side and decided to keep them in his pockets to prevent himself from doing something irrational.  Kise instantly noticed this as he opened the door to tell Murasakibara that his car was waiting. 

 

" _Your_ car?"  The taller man inquired while staring at the now partially clothed man on the bed.  The attendants were still there, no doubt waiting for more instructions, and maybe a hefty amount of tip. 

 

"Yes.  Yes."  Kise nodded impatiently.  "Be glad I'm such a good friend and that I'm  _driving_  you."  A sigh.  "I can't believe this."  He murmured under his breath and watched as Murasakibara effortlessly carried the man in his arms, all the while unconsciously emitting that dangerous aura he only ever witness whenever they were against another clan. 

 

The valet was there waiting patiently beside Kise's car and handed the keys to him once they've emerged from the exclusive VIP exit of the  _casino_.  Murasakibara went straight for the backseat together with his charge.  Kise couldn't help but sigh again. 

 

He has so many questions to ask.  But it would be impossible to get answers tonight or even tomorrow.  Rolling his eyes,  he went for the driver's seat and wondered why he had brought his Chrysler rather than his Ferrari.  Kise glanced at his friend and his  _purchase_  through the rearview mirror.  Maybe...it was coincidentally for this purpose.  

 

"Drive, Kise."  Murasakibara ordered him. 

 

A vein twitched in his temple. 

 

"I'm NOT your fucking chauffeur, Murasakibaracchi!"  He growled and stepped on the gas. 

 

Even with the speed he was going, his friend kept his lips pursed and only held the tanned man in his arms tighter. 

 

… 

 

_F_ _ive years have passed and nothing much has changed._ _He_ _had even matured more beautifully.  The sharp lines of his jaw and his collar bones were as prominent as they first met.  And those_ _lips,_ Murasakibara swallowed,  _he never thought he would long to touch them with his own._  

 

He was also aware how much he wanted to see those sapphire orbs look at him.  Every time he encountered difficulties concerning his responsibility as the clan leader, he would go back to the memory of those eyes he had engraved in his mind.  The calm it gave him...was phenomenal.  And as he observed Aomine still in the grasp of unconsciousness, the halting tremors wracking his body woke a desire Murasakibara had been trying to suppress. 

 

No feel of a woman could even compare to it nor satisfy  _this_ craving. 

 

_Fuck..._  

 

He could only have so much self-control.  He was no  _Saint;_ nor will he ever be.  And here Aomine was, lying on his bed—so vulnerable and yet still fighting the effects of the drug that was pumped into him. 

 

A groan emerged from the sea of sheets, followed by the gradual revealing of tired blue eyes.  He blinked a few times before searching for any familiarity he can associate within the room.  His brows creased as he painstakingly goaded his mind to clear.  Until they landed on the man now hovering over him. 

 

"Wh—Where am I?"  He asked and had to dry swallow to make his voice work.  A straw poked on his lips and he instinctively took it in his mouth and sipped the cool water.  It was taken away from him as the other man felt his increasing enthusiasm to finish the whole glass.  It wouldn't do him good if he were to drink so much so soon and end up coughing it back out. 

 

"You're in my house."  A deep, lazy voice answered him.  Then he heard the soft  _thunk!_  of the glass being laid down on the bedside table. 

 

A sudden realization made him jolt up into a sitting position, only to be held back by the extreme headache beating up his brain. 

 

"The drug hasn't left your system."  The other man calmly informed him.  A shift on the bed made the spring mattress shake lightly and socked footsteps went a few paces on the floor before the presence was back on the crisp white sheets. 

 

The man opened his hand and there was a white and blue capsule waiting on his palm. 

 

"Take it.  It'll help." 

 

_It'll help..._  

 

Aomine's eyes widened and his hand shot out to slap the medicine away.   

 

"Ge—get away..."  He was mumbling. 

 

Recovering from the tanned man's action, Murasakibara kept himself composed. 

 

"Calm down, Aomine."  He placated. 

 

"Who the fuck are you?!  Ho—how do you know my name!"  Aomine shouted.  His heart was beating hard against his chest again.  Suspicion grating his nerves; disbelief and denial still flashing in his memory.  He kind of have an inkling as to where he might have ended up.  But he wasn't waiting to confirm it. 

 

Ignoring the blinding ache in his head [it was somehow receding anyway], Aomine let the new surge of adrenaline take over his body.  He grabbed the sheets and threw them away from him, crawling desperately out of the bed in order to reach the door. 

 

He didn't even get the chance to touch the floor when strong arms went around his chest and waist and placed him back on the crumpled comforter. 

 

"Calm the fuck down, Aomine!"  Murasakibara growled as the tanned man continued thrashing away from him. 

 

"Let me go!  I have to leave.  I have to go there!"  He said almost hysterically as he glared defiantly at the taller man. 

 

Murasakibara sat on his calves but kept his firm grip on Aomine's arms.  Even if the tanned man could gain his full strength, he still wouldn't be able to go against Murasakibara's brawn.   

 

"Go where?"  He asked under his breath. 

 

"My father is in danger."  Aomine snapped back.  "If I don't get back to him, my mother will be too."   

 

Murasakibara wanted to laugh and maybe break a thing or two.  He was getting angry just thinking of  _that_  hideous man.   

 

"Your  _father_ sold you."  He answered coldly.   

 

The information seemed to gain him a few quiet seconds from the other man.  Thinking of this fact also reminded him how some things you trust could cut you deepest.  It disgusted him that he had experienced the same thing.  The poison of betrayal a powerful mechanism in changing one's life.  

 

… 

 

Aomine was aware he was meeting up with his father when an unknown group cornered him to an abandoned parking lot.  Caught off guard and defenseless as he only expected to see his father, someone skillfully struck him on his nape, impeding any counter assault that will come from him and instantly rendering him unconscious.  The next thing he remembered was that his father was there beside him speaking with another man dressed in an expensive suit. 

 

_"Da_ _a_ _..a_ _d..?  What happened?"  He_ _mumbled_ _._ _The back of his head_ _felt_ _like a_ _boulder_ _chipped his skull and penetrated inside._  

 

_His father looked at him with his brown eyes and whispered something briefly to the_ _unfamiliar_ _man.  The aristocratic way h_ _is father's companion_ _dealt with his movements made Aomine uncomfortable._ _N_ _ot to mention the fact that_ _the entire baseline of his head_ _was still throbbing from the earlier hit he took, he remembered how_ _the_ _meeting with his father had been interrupted by [most probably] a group who had been tailing him_ _.  So this could have occurred because they were at the wrong place at the_ _wro_ _ng_ _time._  

 

_Were they_ _saved by this man?  And he never knew his dad was acquaintances with someone of obvious high-standing_ _._  

 

_"Here."  A pill was offered to him.  He looked up to see a man wearing a_ _three-piece_ _dark brown tweed_ _._  

 

_"It'll help."  The man prompted and with a glance at his father's nod, Aom_ _ine swallowed it._  

 

_It_ _took_ _merely_ _five minutes when he felt_ _whatever left of_ _hi_ _s_ _strength draining away and his awareness floating back and forth from vague consciousness.  The cold feel of leather was wrapped around his neck before he could register the metal_ _clinking as the locked was snapped in place.  His hands were next and same as before_ _,_ _his wrists were cuffed in no time._  

 

_He began thrashing sluggishly when he lost sight of his father.  And the men holding him down began ripping his clothes._  

 

_Everything had been a blur afterwards._  

 

"NO..  Something must have happened.  He wouldn't do that willingly."  He looked at Murasakibara.   

 

"I don't even know you.  Why should I believe you?" 

 

The taller man loosened his grip. 

 

"You...don't remember?"  He almost mumbled.  It was possible that Aomine wouldn't remember him.  They only met each other briefly and five years have gone by then.  But still the disappointment that gripped his heart made him uncomfortable.  He didn't like this feeling. 

 

"Even if we knew each other, I don't want to remember."  The disdain in Aomine's eyes was suffocating.  Murasakibara could feel his nails digging into his palms as he tried to keep track of his temper. 

 

"You said my father  _sold me_?  Were you the one who bought me then?  What kind of sick fuck buys another person!"   

 

Murasakibara took a deep breath. 

 

"You are naive, aren't you?"  The taller man's deep voice sent chills down Aomine's spine.  His huge hand opened a drawer and pulled out a Manila envelope.  He drew out a paper and shoved the contract in front of Aomine's face. 

 

"You were sold to me for 200 million." 

 

The tanned man didn't reach for the paper and instead followed the words written on it with his eyes.   

 

"I now own you and I don't care what circumstances you were sold for but I would advise you not t—!" 

 

The punch registered in his brain a little later than he would have liked.  But the moment Aomine dashed for the door, Murasakibara's hand instinctively moved on its own.  His fingers fisted around the collar of the robe the tan man was wearing and hauled him backwards with more than enough strength to slam him down on the bed.  The air was knocked out of Aomine's chest with the impact and his eyes widened at the wild amethyst orbs looking down at him. 

 

"You could've simply said you don't remember me and I wouldn’t hold it against you." 

 

"Let go, you fucking bastard!" 

 

Murasakibara growled and was briefly satisfied with how it silenced whatever insult or curse Aomine was planning on branding him next. 

 

"Now, if we are to speak about how you can pay your way out of  _this_ , I have a proposal."  He took both of his wrists and gripped, planting them just above the blue head with one hand.  He leaned in further to whisper in his ears. 

 

"And you're going to  _take it_."  

 

Murasakibara tangled his fingers through the dark blue locks and ignored the hiss from Aomine as he crashed their lips together.  The man was trying so hard to push him, using all the strength his muscles have in his current condition.  Yet even as he applied his training to outbalance the raging man or dislodge himself from his hold, he was bound in his steel-like grip and weighed down by his bigger frame.  Biting the other man didn't do much.  Indeed Aomine was able to gain back the freedom of his lips but the next thing that followed deprived him of his breath. 

 

"Wha—what are you doing!"  The panic was laced in his voice. 

 

He was turned, shoved face down on the pillow and the robe was immediately torn away from his body.  He flinched when cold gel-like substance flowed on the crack of his rear and his thighs were nudged wide open by strong knees and legs.  An unhesitant finger slid down from the bottom of his spine towards the surface of his entrance. 

 

Aomine twisted his arms to free himself.  It only caused him more pain in return as his wrists were clenched in an almost crushing hold.  His legs were separated in a shameful display; exposing the most intimate part of him. 

 

"Stop!"  Trying to kick his way out was a wrong move for it only gave way for his legs to spread wider in his pinned down position.  "I'm a man!  What the fu—uck is wr..wrong with you!  Why are you—doing this?!"  He shouted as he pursued with his struggle.   

 

The discomfort of the initial penetration was unexplainable.  A finger explored around inside him for he didn't know how long until it reached three thick digits stretching him wide and spreading the warmed gel on the walls of his internal muscle.  A wet tongue travelled on his neck up to his ear. 

 

"I'm going to answer your question."  Murasakibara was almost breathless with desire as he positioned himself on Aomine's entrance. 

 

"I'm a man...that's why—"  He was groaning while he gradually slipped inside Aomine; the man himself crying out by the foreign flesh almost breaking him in two.  "—that's why I desire all kinds of things." 

 

"Ahhckk..hahh... Hah—hh!"  Aomine's knucles were white as he gripped the sheets.  "Ta—take it...out...!"  He was panting hard.  Teeth clamped onto a pillow as a pitiful leverage.   

 

Murasakibara's brows creased. 

 

"I can't."  He answered truthfully and thrusted fully inside the tanned man until his clothed thighs touched the back of Aomine's quivering ones. 

 

He continued to move because he couldn't stop the perverted desire to hear more of Aomine's moans.  The high it gave him when listening to the rough voice of a man cracking like a woman's plea.  The warm, soft, and almost constricting feeling of his virgin muscle surrounding his girth.  The solid presence of him writhing beneath his chest. 

 

He grasped his shoulder and turned him around to face him without pulling out; Aomine gasping at the sudden movement.  Dark blue eyes quivered as they looked at him.  Clear fluid marking lines down smooth cheeks.  Even as he was held down, Murasakibara could still see the determination in Aomine's eyes not to fully succumb to the sensation.  Or maybe the  _reality_  that he was in this state and that his body was beginning to betray him in response to Murasakibara's attention. 

 

A harder thrust.  Aomine's head tilted up as he gasped again, the long expanse of his neck sinfully tempting Murasakibara even more.  

 

Amethyst eyes casted down to drink in the view. 

 

_What was wrong with him indeed?_  

 

_This wasn't what he was planning to do.  He only meant to..._ what? 

 

_"Rescue" him?_  

 

_Save him...?_  

 

_Was this a deed of_ saving _him?_  

 

Thoughts and questions flooded his mind while his body drenched in the pleasure of finally having Aomine in his arms.  Taking him.  Moving inside him.  Being connected to him in the most intimate of ways. 

 

"I can’t stop...  I can't.  I can't..."  He chanted, gritting his teeth. 

 

"I'm sorry, Aomine."  He whispered in the ears of the man beneath him.  He finally let go of the other's wrists and wrapped his arms around him in an ironically protective hold.   

 

He knew his larger frame could crush even a man of Aomine's built.  So he ceased using any strength and embraced the tanned man tenderly as he bit his lower lip till he could taste his own blood.   

 

… 

 

What was supposed to be Aomine's unmarred skin was now painted with various-shaped bruises; mostly in the form of Murasakibara's hand.  Despite Aomine's tanned complexion,  it seems that the shade of his skin wasn't enough to hide the evidence of how Murasakibara had been so out of control to let his strength show itself in abandonment. 

 

The tanned man was curled up, tremors in his body more visible than before.  It was obvious how he tried to hide it but the stress in his head had gotten the bigger grip on his physical motors.   

 

Aomine wasn't exactly a regular man like the one you encounter everyday with a normal height and a corresponding plain physique.  At age twenty seven, he reached up to a height of a hundred and ninety-two centimeters.  His muscles weren't built merely from a gym and was formed through intense training.  It was just on Murasakibara's fortune that he had been blessed with a stature and strength that complimented each other.  And maybe because he was to carry the title of alpha in their clan that he acquired such a strong characteristic perfect to rule over a throng of people carrying the same dark fate as him—whether by choice or not. 

 

"Le—let me go..."  Aomine spoke, voice hoarse. 

 

Murasakibara looked at him in the corner of his eyes. 

 

"I wasn't lying when I said your father sold you.  You read the contract yourself; no matter how briefly.  His signature you saw there wasn't forged and anyway there was no purpose for me in doing so." 

 

Aomine flinched at the reminder and followed the other man's movements with his eyes as he gathered a long folder into his hands. 

 

"Sure, I can let you go...and maybe even assist you in helping your father."  Murasakibara slid the material towards the other man and his hand uncertainly opened it to check the contents after carefully sitting up. 

 

Aomine's eyes widened and his skin paled at the list of debts under the name of his father.  The firms he had borrowed from were all registered markets, nonetheless they were still from loan sharks operated by yakuza organizations.  But it didn't mean they were any less legal compared to private loan companies as well. 

 

"Your father only cleared all of his debts from Naoto Sanada by putting you in auction.  A small mercy, I should say.  As it is where he took money from the most."   

 

Aomine glared at him but it lacked any heat.  The far fetched shimmer in his eyes reflected more of impending defeat.   

 

Silence overtook the space between them.  Aomine was the one who broke it a few minutes later. 

 

"What assistance...were you speaking of?"   

 

Murasakibara knew how hard it was for the other man to speak of this, much less to initiate articulating his demand regarding their  _contract_. 

 

"The rest of your father's debts and the cost of winning you at the auction, along with a few more expenses amount to a total of three hundred fifty million." 

 

Aomine pulled himself up to a sitting position as he listened, dreading the words that have yet to spill from the taller man's lips. 

 

"From today onwards, it will be your own personal debt."   

 

"But that's impossible...for me to—"  The tanned man unconsciously dug his nails on his other hand in disbelief. 

 

"I own you in every way until I receive full payment."   

 

Aomine stared blankly at the document still in his hands. 

 

"You said it yourself.  You want me to let you go as well as help your father." 

 

Murasakibara gritted his teeth.   

 

He was losing it.   _His grip on sanity.  He wasn't_ _obligated_ _in making himself look_ _worse in Aomine's eyes._   In truth, he wanted to be recognized by him.  He only dreamt of those gentle hands to touch him again.  For that beautiful face to look at him with genuine  _care_.  Not this side of him where untold fear was rapidly invading his senses.    

 

"Three hundred fifty...million.  There's no way I—" 

 

"You don't have to worry."   

 

Aomine looked up at him.  His eyes took notice of the two thick envelopes now in Murasakibara's grasp. 

 

"I'll let you earn it."  He threw them near Aomine and a bundle of ten thousand yen notes slipped out of the seal and scattered all over the disarrayed sheets of the bed. 

 

_Ah.  So in the_ _end, I_ _lost to my own desire?_  

 

_That's right.  If I could tie_ _him_ _down with me through this, I'll drown myself in this weakness._  

 

"Starting today, I'll buy your body for five hundred thousand each time."  He announced. 

 

The despondency in the midnight orbs bore into his mind.   

 

_Yes.  The water will fill my lungs in no time..._  

 

… 

 

Kise had to cancel a whole day of  _shooting_  which promised him a grand contract and a multi-million dollar bond.  So if Murasakibara won't be able to gather his shit by the time he arrived at his building, he was going to trim his purple head by pulling chunks of hair with his bare hands.  Half inch at a time.  Since he was considering to be kind and they were  _friends_. 

 

The blonde jabbed the top floor button several times until the elevator doors closed, ignoring how the innocent circular piece almost fell off by the time he let go to lean his back against the cool metal surface.  The light vibration on his back as the elevator moved upward somehow calmed him.  But when he arrived at his destination and briefly exchanged glances with the green-haired assistant, Kise recalled why he was here in the first place and not riding a plane to Berlin. 

 

Despite the obvious dark mood permeating the path towards Murasakibara's office, Kise still slammed the door hard enough that it rattled on its hinges and the knob left a mark on the wall beside it. 

 

"I'm going to kill you, Murasakibaracchi!"  He growled once he stepped foot inside the boss's room.   

 

The eyes that met him could make an ordinary person faint on the spot.  But the blonde was no ordinary man.  If people were to speak of the way they lived their lives, they were in par with each other.  Death was a daily occurrence and killing was a natural dance in their business.  However,  even he could admit that if he were to face the purple-head giant in a head on fight, he might not live to see another day. 

 

He threw a knife aimed at the yakuza alpha's face with precise speed to deliver a lethal strike. 

 

A chuckle came out of his lips. 

 

"I knew you were going to catch that."  He told the man. 

 

Murasakibara had the blade of the knife perfectly lodged between his index and middle finger.  Kise only snorted at him when the knife cut a strand of his hair as it was thrown back in his direction and made its way straight into the pristine wall. 

 

"Do that again and I'll really kill you this time."  He threatened without much vigor and sat on one of the seats adjacent to the polished mahogany table. 

 

"What are you doing here, Ryouta?"   

 

Kise sighed. 

 

"I also don't fucking know.  But I think I'm trying to be a good friend by asking ' ** _what the fuck is wrong with your loose-screwed brain_** '?"   

 

He heard the swivel wingback chair creak and watched as Murasakibara forked his fingers through his hair as if he was frustrated.   

 

_Bizarre_.  The man was never frustrated.  Or he had never seen him be in that state.  Even as they were growing up together. 

 

_Well, that's a first._  

 

Kise leaned on the table and stapled his fingers to put his chin over them. 

 

"So...  How is  _he_?  Is your newly purchased pet coming along in his new home?"  He smiled.   

 

The pen he wasn't aware Murasakibara was holding snapped in two.  

 

"Ahh...I see.  So that is  _why_ you're acting like a top level monster today.  How many coffee tables have you broken exactly?  I heard you actually emptied the storage room of the spares." 

 

The purple-haired boss snorted and leaned his forehead on his palm. 

 

"Is he a virgin?"   

 

Kise knew he was pushing it but he couldn't help but tease the man.  The giant idiot owed him a lot today.  Speaking of which, he should probably tell him regarding that as well.  Kuroko had to be transferred to a new location for his  _business_  anyway.  To keep him safe.  And instead of coming true to his words he exchanged with the Russian [his current client], he was basically risking Kuroko's life by prioritizing the petty dilemma of his friend and delaying the disposal of his latest target. 

 

He was pretty immune to the glare Murasakibara gave him, no matter how rare he received them.  But then behind his piercing gaze this time, there was a hint of regret clouding his eyes. 

 

"He  _was_  a virgin."  Murasakibara admitted.  He tugged on his hair a bit when he felt his face warm.  "Can’t be really sure of his front, though.  But he's twenty-seven.  I'm sure he isn't the type to celibate."        

 

"Well, well, well.  I almost thought a totem pole like you wouldn't even try him.  But I never expected you to take out so much money for some stranger as well.  Tell me who he is, Murasakibaracchi." 

 

"No one of importance."  The taller man snapped. 

 

"Then can I borrow hi—"  Kise's words were stolen by the wind as his collar was yanked harshly towards the other man.  Half of his torso was now leaning on the wooden desk, palms securely holding the edge to keep his balance. 

 

"No."  Murasakibara growled in his face before letting go of him. 

 

Kise laughed as if the other man didn't almost bite his head off.  Literally. 

 

"You're so obvious.  You know I can gather information about him in no time." 

 

"Then why provoke me?"   

 

Kise dramatically poised his hand over his heart and returned his friend's dark look by batting his lashes. 

 

"'Cause finally, there is a blue streak that will taint your colorless life." 

 

_I wonder what kind of man Murasakibara has purchased.  To even dare leave a bruise on the yakuza alpha's face?  Truly interesting..._  

 

… 

 

Aomine still couldn't contemplate why his father would do this to him.  He was aware he wasn't his biological father.  But the man who had saved his mother from a lonely life and the one who had partially guided him till he could stand up in his own feet, wouldn't be able to do this.  Or was he so bad at gaging an individual's character that he missed something crucial about him? 

 

He waved his head.   _No.  There's something.  Something that might have pushed him to do such a_ thing. 

 

He read the documents the man who  _bought_  him left, over and over, and browsed the binding contracts where his father had signed.  His training as an officer of law could confirm that the signature wasn't indeed forged.  And that familiarly crooked symbols were undoubtedly his dad's handwriting.  The particular file that caught his attention was the one involving his name where Naoto Sanada's agreement, regarding the use of an outsourced mode of payment, could recompense for his dad's accumulated debt. 

 

And indeed there it was.  His dad's personal pledge saying that he was offering a man in the police force named 'Aomine Daiki' to be freely put up for sale like he was some kind of a black market product.  Trafficked and bidded without prohibitions. 

 

Tears threatened to prick at his eyes.  His fingers were barely kept in control for he was so tempted to tear the file in pieces and burn them to smithereens.  Until nothing but ash was left.  And after that, he would still wash off the powderized contract into the sewers.  Not a single evidence left behind to trace it.  Taking no chances for another soul to gaze at the bloody  _contract_. 

 

Ironically so, he composed himself instead and put the papers back into their respective envelopes and folders.  He didn't know exactly how the owner of the house he was trapped in would react if he found the papers gone.  And Aomine still had his wit not to risk it.  His dad wasn't his only concern.  The safety of his mother was what truly worried him.  If his father was currently in hiding from other groups he owed money from, no one was taking care of his mother. 

 

… 

 

The master of the house was intelligent.  Although he didn't cut off the phone's connection, when Aomine tried to use it, the call was directed to a certain point of contact he didn't know how to hack into.  The private residence was located at the top floor of a tall building so jumping through the window would only guarantee his demise.  There was not a single laptop or any kind of communication device lying around.  The entrance door was automated to be locked at all times with built-in biometrics system and could only be opened from outside.     

 

Aomine looked down at himself and swore at his own appearance.  In this stage of his life where he was finally beginning to make a name for himself as an emerging detective, having been sold like a  _thing_  made a huge scar not only on his pride but on his very being. 

 

A flash of last night appeared in his mind and he tightened the loose hoodie wrapping his frame.  He knew this was borrowed from the  _owner's_ closet for the size was almost twice bigger than his own clothes.  Not that he could protest.  He felt more comfortable with a proper outfit rather than traipsing around in a robe and no underwear on. 

 

Wiping his face with a towel while ignoring the bruises in various places on his body, he went out of the bathroom and decided to look for the kitchen.  He was too concentrated staring at his water glass after taking a sip that he didn't hear the sound of the house's entrance clicking open and closing.   

 

His thoughts were drifting again, wondering about how his mother was doing, and contemplating whether he was going to be permitted to visit her if he were to ask the master of the house  _politely_.  Their ages didn't look far apart.  And there was something about the man that seemed odd.   

 

_He spoke to me as if we already met...  But I don't_ _rememb_ _—_   

 

"Is the drug no longer giving you any trouble?" 

 

The words were spoken lightly, absent of the growling timber he heard yesterday.  Nevertheless,  the sudden presence startled him to the point he lost his grip on the glass and it fell on the marble floor, shattering into glimmering shards. 

 

Aomine immediately knelt down to pick up the broken pieces. 

 

"I apologize!"  He said, surprised by the panicked tone of his own voice. 

 

"It's fine."  Murasakibara responded, a bit taken aback with the apology.  He prepared to kneel down in order to help clean up. 

 

A shadow loomed over Aomine's crouched form and in his instinctual haste to get away from it, accidentally stepped over a few pieces of the broken glass.  He wasn't wearing the slippers provided for him and so the bigger shards instantly penetrated the sole of his left foot.  The one thing he was thankful for was that he was able to cover his mouth to keep from crying out.  His forehead leaned on the cabinet door beneath the sink as he calmed himself down. 

 

Murasakibara on the other hand, was frozen in shock.  He didn't expect for Aomine to react so strongly against him in this way.  The crease between his brows deepened. 

 

He meant to show Aomine that he wasn't a mindless man incapable of treating him normally.  The desire to take him was not gone, of course.  In fact,  it took every ounce of power in him not to follow through with his desires the way he did yesterday.  But if he has destroyed the chance to redeem himself, the only way he could make Aomine his was to not give him a choice. 

 

_Ridiculous._  

 

He wasn't that kind of person.  The thought of forcing did not even cross his mind all through those five years that he dreamed of taking Aomine.  He did not have him stalked despite the enormous temptation of doing so.  And Murasakibara didn't even ask  _fate_  to present him with the opportunity to meet him again.  But they did; regardless of how enraging the circumstances had been. 

 

"I—I'll clear this all up."  He heard Aomine murmur against the polished wood of his kitchen cabinet. 

 

The tanned man's left sole was already bleeding where some pieces of glass pierced through his skin. 

 

"I said it's fine."  Murasakibara snapped and was soon cursing under his breath when he saw Aomine twitch for a second and went still by his tone. 

 

"We'll have to take care of your foot."  Taking a deep breath, he spoke more calmly and made a move to reach for Aomine's arms and knees so he could carry him back to the bedroom.  He could sense the protest trying to escape from the tanned man's mouth the way he was biting his lower lip.  And Murasakibara had instinctively kissed him on the lips to prevent the other man from making it bleed. 

 

Aomine didn't have time to react or pull away from him for he was soon being laid down on the bed, the taller man propping up his injured foot on top of a pillow. 

 

A few minutes passed and Murasakibara hasn't come back from the bathroom after a series of cluttering sounds echoed on the stone tiles.  Aomine watched him go back out to grab his mobile phone and browse through it, cursing silently every now and then. 

 

"I can take them out myself.  I only need the tweezers."  He suggested uncertainly, swearing at himself for how pathetic he sounded.  This man must think him a wimp.  Scurrying away like a scared mongoose to save his life yet managing to injure himself instead. 

 

As if the man had an epiphany, Murasakibara looked at him before making his way towards his indoor closet.  He carried a few boxes out before fully emerging from the pile of personal belongings and took with him the familiar sight of a first aid kit. 

 

Murasakibara had almost forgotten that he had one of these house necessities buried in his closet of all places.   _Why didn't he just keep it inside the bathroom where it was easily accessible?  Stupid._  

 

Aomine was already waiting for the kit to be placed in his hands when the other man laid it down out of his reach and sat on the chair he placed beside the bed.  Opening the box, Aomine once again attempted to do the deed himself.  Before he was able to speak his intention, Murasakibara beat him to it. 

 

"Shut up."  He said quietly as he put the tip of the tweezers over the Zippo's fire for a few seconds and swiped alcohol-damped cotton on it afterwards.   

 

Aomine kept silent while Murasakibara carefully pulled out the transparent solid pieces buried in his sole.  He was lucky only one of his feet accidentally stepped onto the broken glass.  At least he wasn't going to be immobile till the wounds healed.   

 

A small rumble came from his stomach.  It was the last thing he could ever hope for to break the awkward silence.  The blush that crept up his cheeks couldn't have been more obvious and he automatically looked at the other man to check if he heard it as well.  His cheeks warmed even more when he met amethyst eyes staring at his face intently. 

 

"I forgot that you haven't eaten anything since yesterday."  Murasakibara spoke and finished wrapping up the tanned man's foot with a bandage.  He put all the materials he used back into the kit and stood up. 

 

"I'll make you something.  You have to take some medicine for that as well."  He pointed at the freshly dressed foot. 

 

He was out the door before Aomine could even mutter a single word. 

 

… 

 

_I_ _t's been a while since he had this kind of dream where that_ _gentle hand_ _caressed his skin.  The feeling of it_ _on his cheek and the weight of soft flesh_ _on his forehead blossomed a pleasant warmth in his chest.  There was also that_ _distinctive scent of mint with a splash of sweetness curling over it._  

 

_Gawd, he wanted this.  He_ _wouldn't be able to leave this sensation_ _again_ _even if it were to reject him._  

 

_The_ _touch was retreating.  Not in haste.  But_ _still,  it_ _created an unusual_ _panic in the recesses of Murasakibara's heart._  

 

_He reached out and grasped it in his own hand._  

 

A soft grunt near his face made him open his eyes.  Two pools of clear blue greeting him in surprise.  His brows creased in confusion but shortly after, blinked twice and took in the information his memory was providing him with.  His head tilted down towards the tan arm he was holding and the current posture Aomine was trying so hard to maintain.  For a brief moment, Murasakibara wondered why he looked a bit pained and eventually noticed the reason why. 

 

"I'm sorry."  He straightened up and let Aomine adjust himself properly back on the bed and not on the edge of it.  His hand also automatically moved to assist in lifting the man's leg, at the same time checking if the strain earlier caused for it to bleed.  A few red spots showed but nothing to a degree that indicated the bandage needed replacing.  

 

"You..."  Aomine started; quite unsure if he should say it. 

 

"Are you in pain?"  Murasakibara asked in concern.  The wounds from the broken glass weren't entirely open slashes so the way he tied the bandage around Aomine's foot should be enough to secure them from bleeding out.  However, the pain wouldn't be so easy to suppress by pressure alone.   

 

"I'll get some painkillers."  He was halfway from standing up when Aomine held his wrist as if to stop him but then let go once he realized what he did. 

 

"I think you have a fever."  Aomine informed him. 

 

Murasakibara slowly processed the tanned man's words in his mind.  He was feeling rather physically fine this morning; regardless of the foul mood he was in.  But then Aomine might also be right since his skull seemed to be squeezing his brain in despite the nap he took earlier—no matter how short it was. 

 

"Then I'll get a paracetamol too."  He said and went to his medicine cabinet to check if he had both available.  Thankfully, he did have the standard set of pills for common ailments. 

 

A small smile graced his lips as he took the bottles he needed. 

 

_It wasn't a dream._  

 

After Murasakibara made sure that Aomine drank his painkiller, he slid on the other side of the bed.  No words were further exchanged and he was fast asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there everyone! I'm aware I've mentioned that this was supposed to be just a monster oneshot...but I can't help but feel that I need to post an update to this.
> 
> And it may not seem like it but the following chapter after this will be the conclusion. Yeah. Eventually I might combine the chapters into one long "short" story if I find it'll be more appropriate to do so. 
> 
> Thank you for the reviews and kudos, you guys are great. =D

Aomine woke from the sensation of something warm ghosting over his shoulder towards the side of his neck.  A gentle pressure was caressing his waist and slowly gliding downwards to his thigh, causing him to stir from his position.  Few seconds more have passed and he finally turned to the solid and large presence invading his space amidst the cloud of sleep.  Blue eyes blinked up and purple strands tickled his temple. 

 

"Good morning,  _Lapushka_..."  The words were breathed into his ear and a shiver ran down his spine. 

 

The close proximity of the other presence wasn't uncomfortable but more like an unfamiliar occurrence in his life.  Even when he had previous relationships or simply hanged out with his co-workers, the rare times he invited someone over in his house, he could not remember a time where he had let them stay overnight.  Else, the nicest thing he would offer them was the free space of his enormous couch.  He never braved to use his apartment with his past girlfriends for this particular reason.  Not that he was following a special personal rule; rather he just didn't want to entertain the idea...yet. 

 

Now feeling relaxed and almost succumbing back to sleep with the arms tenderly holding him, he couldn't help but reach out his hand when the presence began shifting away. 

 

His fingers caught a muscular bicep. 

 

Concern masked the surprised look he saw from the man just about to leave the bed. 

 

"Ah—I...I'm so—"  Aomine stuttered and was too late from removing his hand on the other man when Murasakibara seized it in his grip and brought it to his lips to place a soft kiss.   

 

Murasakibara felt the small twitch just before he released Aomine's hand. 

 

"I'll prepare some breakfast."  He announced, stopping himself from gritting his teeth, and left the room without checking if the other man was still shielding his hand from the burn of his touch. 

 

… 

 

Beads of sweat decorated his forehead and some trickled down the sides of his neck.  His panting was still almost nonexistent even after an hour in his gym studio.  He had his hair pulled back but a few strands here and there were escaping at the vicious pace he guided his fists on the sandbag.  The impact of his knuckles on its surface echoed around the room like the solid whip of a thick cord slapping over tiled ground.  He shifted his torso, stepping a few inches back, and braced into a position to land his instep towards the punching bag's middle body.  The poor practice tool was dented almost in an impossible angle that the chains it was hanging from dangerously creaked in its bolted screws. 

 

Murasakibara's phone began ringing again when not too long ago he had just ignored the sound as it vibrated over the small table near a beverage fridge. 

 

Sighing, he stopped the wriggling of the punching bag and approached where his phone was, as well as to grab a small bottle of water.  He finished  the whole thing before pressing the answer button on his mobile. 

 

"Yeah?" 

 

"Where are you?"  A calm voice spoke on the other line. 

 

"Home.  Why?"  He asked.  The adrenaline was still running through his veins in a tense course and he wanted to go back to pounding his fists hard onto an unyielding surface.  As it was,  there was no option for him breaking tables in his house unlike if he was in his office.  

 

"Might I assume that your recent  _acquaintance_  is the reason?" 

 

Murasakibara was impatiently fiddling on a loose end of the bandage wrapped around his left fist.  

 

"Not exactly.  But my  _acquaintance,_  as you politely put, have pointed out that I have a  _fever_.  That's why I took the day off."  He stressed on the two words just to spite his secretary.  He didn't have time for idle talk nor for one of those days when the green-haired stoic assistant of his would check on him out of nowhere. 

 

"Now that's rare.  Are you having a headache perhaps?  Is something off with your stomach?  If you're feeling a bit dizzy, you shouldn't be—" 

 

The yakuza alpha hit the sandbag without holding back any of his strength; his mobile phone gripped firmly by his ear and shoulder.  He had been trying to control his body's raw power the first hour he was doing a warm-up and a bit of practice.  And maybe he still has that fever, that was why his patience was running a bit thin more than usual.  The first layer of skin on his knuckles were peeled back despite the protection of the gauze and Murasakibara heard the small tap of the door bouncing gently before he felt the slight burn throbbing over his hand. 

 

Fully alert, his eyes zeroed in on the entrance of his gym studio as he growled harshly into his phone. 

 

… 

 

Aomine had hesitated and mulled over several times on how he would ask the other man if he could check on his mom.  No.   _When_  he could see his mom, would be more accurate.  After eating brunch together with such overwhelming  _awkwardness_ hovering between the two of them, he felt more tense and more unsure if the man would welcome a request from him.  Having a nightmare about the numerous contracts stating his father had been borrowing loads of money from loan sharks, that morning when he felt the other man's gentle touches stirring him awake had given him the peculiar sensation of feeling somehow more... at ease.  Certainly ironic as it was in his current situation.  Not that he had forgotten what the man offered him in order to pay for his freedom; but there was a small chance this man would listen to him if he were to stay a bit compliant. 

 

Remembering the flushed face of the taller man before he left him to clean up their dishes, Aomine decided to help the man with his fever first.  With a clear head, the man would positively be more agreeable.   

 

He needed to be rational dealing with his current situation.  Even if he weren't given any training handling this type of  _entrapment_ , the least thing he would consider doing was follow through with his impatience and risk the possibility of regaining his freedom, at the same time the safety of his mother. 

 

He went into the bathroom and didn't have to search long for the bottle of paracetamol.  He had previously taken his morning dosage of painkiller and was reminded of the fact that the other man hasn't emerged from the room at the other side of the floor to take his medicine.  There was a possibility that the man might be working and he didn't want to be disturbed.  But Aomine caught the sight of gym equipment peeking through just before the door was closed and decided to deliver the medicine himself. 

 

Assuming that by now the man was probably taking a small break due to the silence behind the closed door, Aomine silently knocked in order not to startle the owner of the house.  He was wrong though for as soon as the door was gently pushed open, a resounding impact of flesh over firm object almost made Aomine drop the glass of water he was holding.  Almost.   

 

Thankfully this time, he had more self-awareness and a better grip around the glass.  That despite the sudden pounding of his heart, his instinct as a detective have kicked in at that moment to keep his composure intact.  He was prepared to state his request before he came to the room.  Now that he was being subjected to an intense glare from the owner of those amethyst eyes, he was instantly uncertain. 

 

"What the hell do you want?!"  He heard the man growl. 

 

A small swishing sound turned up between them that then immediately escalated to an outpour indicating the sandbag had been aggravated too much from the impact of the punch, causing it to rip open.  Thin fog of sand clouded the lower portion of Murasakibara's legs.  And maybe also affected most of Aomine's earlier confidence.                    

 

Murasakibara was confused right after he had basically snarled into his phone because of his assistant's blabbering.  He hadn't meant to glare at the man now standing somewhat frozen at the door.  Obviously, Aomine thought Murasakibara heard him when he entered the room and was now being lashed out for possibly disturbing him.  The taller man clicked off his phone before the tanned male could even make a step back. 

 

The continuous pouring of sand from the punching bag was not helping.  It just made a glaring proof of his strength and the result of his violent urge to vent out his current frustration.  Add to it the sight of bruises still marring Aomine's skin that made him further disappointed about himself.  Those were stark evidence and regrettable adhesion to the list of disgraceful acts he had already shown the other man.  He didn't want to append more.  Else, he'd just opt to drive a knife to his own gut. 

 

Grabbing a towel hanging on the treadmill's handle bar, he wiped the sweat off his face and avoided looking straight into Aomine's eyes when he spoke. 

 

"Is there something you need?"  He was so relieved by the calmness in his voice.  No trace of the irritated growling he was giving his secretary.  At this point, there would be no sense in explaining his earlier irritation. 

 

"I just brought you your medicine."  Murasakibara looked up at the composed tone of the tanned man.  He was sure he wouldn't even get an answer.  Not immediately anyway.  But Aomine was holding out a pill and a glass of water his fingers seemed to be choking unconsciously. 

 

He reached out for both and popped the pill into his mouth without asking any questions.  He saw the pill was same as the one he drank last night and so he wouldn't worry about the man trying to drug him into unconsciousness or poisoning him.  Also, if he had been truly determined to be free, Murasakibara would have already been choked in his sleep with a telephone cord or something else. 

 

As he was gulping the last drops of water, he caught Aomine concentrating on him.  The man's gaze boring a different glint of curiosity about them.  

    

Then the next thing Murasakibara was looking at were blue eyes now staring at him cautiously, thin eyebrows pulled up, and his own shadow flooding like a veil over Aomine's body.  He didn't know that he had already approached the other man and have covered the few steps separating them.  Now both of his arms were moving of their own accord, crowding the tanned male against the wall, and almost pinning him with his own gaze.  Unlike before,  he was feeling warmer than when he was practicing with his sandbag.  Warmer because suddenly the flesh beneath his skin felt like it was scorching even the air he was breathing.  His head tilted down slowly but without hesitation.  If he were paying attention to what he was actually doing, he would've already stopped as soon as he had gotten too close.  His fingers dug on a layer of paint off his wall.  As far as he had already controlled his desires so flawlessly many times before, this time was painstakingly difficult. 

 

 _No..._ He scolded himself internally. 

 

He held his breath and started pulling away. 

 

… 

 

Aomine couldn't tell if the reason for the heavy beating of his heart was because he could anticipate what the taller man would do to him again or that if he didn't let him, he would lose any chances to gain at least a positive hand with the man.  When Murasakibara began pushing his body off of him, the movement of his own arms instantly wiped away the ambivalence happening inside his head.  

 

Ignoring the slight flash of pain from his injury last night, he balanced his weight on his toes.  Arms curled around Murasakibara's neck and guided the other man's head to face his.  He sought out for his lips and then kissed him.  It might be without genuine passion but he made sure to vanquish any traces of hesitation in that kiss and even tried to deepen it.  Nevertheless when he felt the stiff unresponsiveness from the other man, dragging Aomine's desperation into a failing attempt, the tanned male was beginning to feel the shame of his own action. 

 

How could someone, an officer of the law such as him, resort to this kind of strategy?  He hadn't even been staying with the other man for more than three days and he was acting as if everything were already coming to an end for him? 

 

How could he not act like it, though?  The man didn't tell lies to him as far as he could tell.  There were solid proofs of his father's debts.  Debts that he could no way pay in return without doing something drastic himself.  He would not be able to use his position as a detective to somehow get away from it.  Yakuza groups weren't exactly banned from their society and despite it being quite unbelievable, these organizations were built from some of the most prominent families who had been consistently adding their fair share in the development of the country's economic stability. 

 

Aomine pulled away then, only to be held gently in return within the arms of the other man.  A kiss was buried in his hair before he felt his chin being coaxed upward so that he could properly face Murasakibara.  The taller man had an unexplainable expression on his face—a mix of held back desire and something else.  It was not pity.  Of that, somehow, he can be sure of. 

 

A palm caressed his cheek and Murasakibara leaned down to place a kiss upon his lips.  However this time, the taller man didn't stop.  He angled his head while bending his knees momentarily and now had his right arm cradling underneath Aomine's waist, the other keeping a strong support behind the tanned man's back as he lifted him up against the wall to put their faces on the same level. 

 

He took the chance to slip his tongue in Aomine's mouth as the other man gasped in the change of position and reveled in the feeling of fingers tightening their hold onto his sweat-damp shirt.  Their lips molded against each other, completely dancing according to Murasakibara's pace and when he cut if off, his mouth travelled behind Aomine's ear and trailed all over the smooth expanse of tanned neck and shoulders. 

 

Fumbling a bit to open the door, Murasakibara successfully exited the room and went straight to the nearest bath quarters; all the while carrying Aomine with him and kissing him without pause.  As soon as they were inside, he reached out one arm to twist the shower open and continued mapping every part of the tanned male's exposed skin with his tongue and lips. 

 

If Aomine's vision had blurred from the overflowing attention of Murasakibara on him, the steam coming from the hot shower was starting to seize his focus on what was happening.  After a few moments, the taller man carefully landed him on his own feet but then felt himself being turned around and leaning on the moist marble tiles.  The button down he was wearing was slipped past his shoulders but wasn't entirely removed.  The droplets of shower making the material stick to him like a second skin.  Despite the high temperature of the water soaking his body, Murasakibara's open-mouth kisses still scorched his flesh even more.  He couldn't understand it.  There was no feeling of disgust crawling up his skin the way he had the first night the taller man took him.  His touches weren't exactly welcome but he was not feeling a single hint of repulsion either. 

 

The button of his pants as well as its zipper were opened hastily.  And this time, he felt the wide palms of Murasakibara touch the cheeks of his ass.  An involuntary flinch from him made the other man pause.  Instead of carrying on with what the taller man had in mind, he turned Aomine back around to face him.  Even within the veil of haziness blurring his vision, the amethyst orbs absorbing every part of him was too much for him to handle and he can't help but look away.                       

 

A warm sensation engulfing his flaccid member made his eyes shot wide open.  He faced forward in order to look at Murasakibara and was shocked to see the purple head at the level of his waist, mouth almost studiously paying curious attention to his gradually rousing cock.  

 

"St—Stop..."  Aomine said even as the rivulets of water continued to slide down their skin heavily and deluge the sounds coming unbidden from his mouth.  His fingers were unconsciously digging on Murasakibara's scalp but the taller man didn't notice as he was more focused on the task at hand.  And when he made an attempt to swallow Aomine's member whole, the tanned man couldn't stop the loud gasp escaping his lips. 

 

He belatedly covered his mouth when his eyes landed on Murasakibara's and the man once again stood up, looming over the tanned male's body after he lifted him up by bracing his arms beneath Aomine's thighs.  The firm legs were guided around his still clothed waist and Murasakibara single-handedly shoved his pants off in order to alleviate his own hardness.   

 

Aomine didn't want to look.  He had felt the taller man's girth inside him two nights ago and he wasn't sure if he could take it again so soon.  As a man, he never thought of having sex with other men.  Sure there were times when he kind of felt attracted to one of his co-workers but actually involving himself into a sexual relationship with another man has yet to appear in his mind.  Worst, he never expected to have experienced it in this kind of unfortunate circumstance where he was sold because of his father's selfishness and amount of debts.  He was no whore and it angered him that he was powerless compared to this man who had bought him. 

 

Murasakibara reached for something on his left and Aomine barely saw the label on the bottle to know what it was.  But when the taller man flipped the cap open and squeezed a generous amount on his palm, the minty lemon scent briefly touched his nose.  The bottle was tossed on the side just before Aomine felt a shift underneath him and slick long fingers slid along the crack of his ass cheeks, ending up on the surface of his entrance.  His legs around the other man tightened as if on instinct while one of his hands let go of Murasakibara's neck in a poor attempt to cover his vulnerable entrance. 

 

Murasakibara kissed Aomine then and bought some time to distract him a bit from the beginning panic no doubt the other man was experiencing.  He breathed in his ear and licked the inside tenderly with his tongue, cheek nuzzling the other's while he gradually moved the covering hand to where the tanned man's member was surprisingly staying erect.   

 

"Hold this."  Murasakibara instructed and felt the man twitch against him when his slicked fingers once again travelled over the tight entrance.        

 

"I won't let it hurt.  Not this time.  Not ever...  I promise you."  He whispered over Aomine's jawline and showered kisses upon his collar bones, his shoulders, his neck, then back to his chest, and over his nipples—all the while as his fingers attentively stretched and let the cool gel soften the tight muscles inside of Aomine. 

 

His own member had been hard ever since they exited the gym studio and Murasakibara could feel the toll his forced patience was giving his body.  With a few more strokes of his fingers to relax the muscles of the tanned man's entrance, quite unexpectedly he was able to finally pinpoint the angle of Aomine's prostate when the man arched his back in surprise.  It caused a sudden shift in Murasakibara's hold and in turn caused Aomine's erection to brush against his own. 

 

They both moaned.   

 

Although he may have been holding back earlier, Murasakibara could only stretch his control until he had the tip of his head snuggly being held around Aomine's flesh.  He pushed in slowly...slowly as he struggled to wait for the constricting muscle to relax and welcome him enough to provide a smooth penetration. 

 

He bit his lower lip and once again tasted his own blood before it was instantly being washed away by the water of the shower.  It was hard.  So impossibly difficult.  Having to patiently control his body so that he wasn't going to hurt Aomine in the process.  Not again as he had promised. 

 

"That's right.  Just relax.  Breathe in,  Aomine..."  He whispered in the other man's ear and continued kissing his cheekbones, the sides of his lips, the underside of his jaw, and his Adam's apple bobbing whenever he swallowed. 

 

Murasakibara once again waited and inhaled and exhaled deeply himself once he was fully seated inside.  He was waiting for Aomine to adjust to his size before he can feel it alright to move.  A few more moments passed with the steady stream of warm shower sliding down their skin and the taller man felt Aomine's forehead leaning on his shoulder, gaining that more relaxed state he had been hoping for.  He tilted his head closer to his ear again and whispered. 

 

"I'm going to move."   

 

Fingers lightly pressing over his back were his cue and Murasakibara carefully pulled out halfway before entering again with a mild force.  Amidst the haze of his burning arousal, he listened attentively to Aomine's moans and silent cries as he began moving a consistent rhythm inside him.  He held back when the passion of taking the other man was starting to get out of hand.  He caught his lips in a deep kiss when the possessiveness in him was too much to bear.  He whispered sweet nothings in his ear when being inside him wasn't enough to satisfy the longing in his chest. 

 

"Aomine...be mine.  Be mine...!"  He murmured through the sound of water around them.  And Aomine would have heard or sensed his desperation if he wasn't currently being swept away by the way Murasakibara kept him held up within his hold—if the water hadn't invaded the limited focus of his ears.  And if he had enough awareness left to know that his body was actually responding to Murasakibara. 

 

"You're mine."  The man said against his parted lips as they both reached their peak and came.   

 

Aomine on the taller man's abs.  And Murasakibara inside him; coating his sensitive flesh and stirring something in his stomach.  Maybe even something... more.  Something he can't recognize yet. 

 

It was frightening.   

 

… 

 

Aomine's midnight blue eyes reflected the exhaustion radiating all over his body.  The sound of the shower pouring like drizzling rain on the stone tiles still echoed in his ears like a lullaby that made him awake instead of coaxing him back to sleep.  He was awfully tired.  The evidence of it was thrumming the inside of his flesh and vibrating through his nerves.  And yet...  he couldn't bring himself to understand the way his body participated in that  _moment_.  That there had been a transient obstruction compromising his original purpose for letting the man embrace him that way again.  That it didn't feel like it was solely lust fueling the man's touches last night. 

 

And that was the problem, wasn't it? 

 

He was easily getting swept up by the huge leap the other man had undergone from the moment they had their first conversation to the most recent words they've exchanged while Aomine was still in the clutches of sleep; although for the most part he were only able to listen.  He was sure the taller man left when the dawn was just breaking through the dark sky for he was here now, staring at the clock that displayed it was only seven in the morning. 

 

Back at the time when he was still going to the station, not even more than a week had passed, he was used to having to wake up at early hours.  Police officers and detectives alike were already getting on with their duties in order to gather precious information about various cases piled up on their desks.  Within Tokyo or every prefecture beyond, the crime rate has always stayed low.  But when a series of murder cases emerge, they most definitely didn't fall on the "petty" level.  And so the long nights would also entail breaking a backbone to fight off sleep. 

 

Aomine pursed his lips as he slowly turned over and lied on his back, swallowing down a few times before trying to clear cobwebs in his throat.  The pain on the base of his spine felt more like an annoying and persistent cramp rather than what had been like hell for him the first time.  As disgusted as he was to admit, the man had kept his  _promise_ in a way because Aomine found himself not flinching every time he moved.  Yes, the exhaustion was there pulling him to take a few extra hours of sleep.  Yet the reason for this inclined more on the fact that the thoughts on his mind kept him from finding a bit of peace.   

He clamped his teeth lightly on his lower lip and covered his eyes with his arm. 

 

 _"I'll be out late._ _.._ _Don't wait up for me."  Murasakibara_ _had_ _whispered against his cheek before a soft press of lips came in contact with his skin_ _and a warm sigh reached his nose_ _._  

 

 _Aomine had his eyes half-open_ _.  His focus_ _quite nonexistent as of the moment for it had just been a few hours when they have gone to bed.  Not even a full four hours have passed yet._ _Nevertheless, he_ _tried his best to pick_ _up what the other man was saying.  Small rustling sounds_ _were_ _re_ _cogniz_ _ed_ _by_ _his ears and he glimpsed at Murasakibara wearing his suit jacket while his socked feet padded over the carpeted indoor closet to grab a small case.  He went over to the side table next, pulled out one of the files he had shown_ _Aomine_ _before_ _, and silently closed the drawer._  

 

 _His half-lidded eyes met with the other's amethyst ones and for a moment he lost focus when a hint of a smile graced the taller man's lips._  

 

 _"I had the fridge stocked up.  Help yourself to anything. And..."_  

 

 _Murasakibara quietly approached the bed while digging something in his pocket.  A small thud resounded from the bedside table._  

 

 _"When you feel the need_ _to...you_ _are free to call this number."_  

 

 _Aomine's eyes had been closed by then when he heard the sound of the room's door_ _gently closing.  Despite his sleep-addled mind attempting to remember everything Murasakibara had told him, one word resonated among the others._  

 

 _Free..._  

 

 _'From_ _this..._ _I_ _want to be free...'_  

 

… 

 

When Murasakibara told him yesterday that he was going to be late and that there was no need to wait till he came back, Aomine assumed it will only be for one particular day.  Although he wasn't exactly expecting the man to inform him about his business since he was merely an added "accessory" in his dull household, the tanned male thought at least that the man would arrive by now or would've left a message just to make sure if his charge hasn't been able to escape yet.  Not that Aomine hadn't tried.  He actually took advantage of the owner's absence to explore every corner of each room in the house.  He studied the floor plan and even took note of the materials and furnitures perpetually arranged in his current prison.  He had been tempted to hide a knife under the bed so that he would have a weapon at hand if the need arose.  But then thought better of it as he hadn't been successful yet in making sure whether he could possibly convince the other man not to involve his mother in this hell of a complication his  _Dad_ brought him to. 

 

 _Damn this..._  

 

It was already getting past midnight.  The clock hanging on the wall of the bedroom ticked steadily like every other thing surrounding him.  And it just made him feel all the more stuck in his current predicament.  The night wasn't particularly cold and yet he found himself zipping the hoodie up to his neck and burying his body further into the comforter.  When Murasakibara told the tanned male that the fridge has been stocked up, he didn't expect to find a pile of new clothes waiting for him as well.  They were perfectly in his size but the hoodie the taller man had lent him the first day was still left out for him; as if Murasakibara had been aware that it gave him some kind of comfort—an odd form of security.  And surprisingly,  even for himself, he didn't even mind  _borrowing_  this single clothing.  

 

He didn't notice what time he had fallen asleep and only realized it was already morning when the rays of the sun peeking through the blinds and bouncing off the floor to scatter around, brightly illuminated the room.He sat up on the bed groggily and slowly wiped away the sleep in his eyes.  Getting off the pool of cushions, he grabbed a pair of dark green long-sleeved shirt and black cotton shorts before heading straight to the master's bathroom.   

 

At first he didn't plan on using the main rooms where the owner of the house most likely visited on a daily basis.  However,  thinking of what happened on the shower room near the gym, he couldn't help but be bothered on the images that kept flashing in his mind.  If he were given the choice to have another bedroom as well, it would be a blessing to him.  But then as bizarre as it was, with the enormous space this house covered, there was only one room equipped to be a bedroom.  The rest were either transformed into an office, a training studio, or rooms built for various other purposes which Aomine couldn't quite identify.  In total,  the place was designed to house the most specific of functions and basically what majority of men their age want for their own. 

 

Aomine furrowed his brows as he focused on spreading blueberry jam on his toast.  He had always found cooking for himself a bit troublesome and time-consuming considering he will only be preparing a meal that no one would appreciate with him.  It wasn't that he was a sap needing someone to be with him in order to enjoy eating, but he could be honest that he had been feeling quite out of his element even before  _this_ happened to him.  He was beginning to feel the loss of annoying co-workers speaking boisterously loud in the office, the endless chatter even while he was concentrating on an investigation, the occasional flirting, and also the moments where he was finding leads that will help close a case.  He was thinking of his partner as well, who was most likely trying his hardest to find out what happened to him and tracing back to wherever he might have gone. 

 

 _Damn, he was even having glimpses of thoughts of the taller man with amethyst eyes.  And he has yet to ask for his name._  

 

 ** _"You can call me Mura..."_**   

 

Aomine's eyes widened at the sudden appearance of a blurred memory.  He placed down the butter knife he'd been using and ignored the mess he made which was supposedly his lunch.  Pulling out a glass from the cupboard, he ran the faucet and drank the water in three big gulps.  

 

"Mura..?"  He tried to roll the unfamiliar name in his tongue. 

 

The sound of silk being untangled from its knot and sliding over satin shirt did little to caution him before cold damp lips touched his neck.  His body twitching in instinctual defense was cut short by the thick arms now wounded around his waist and trapping the hand he'd been holding the glass with.  It boggled his mind how a man of Murasakibara's size could move so smoothly, not even a small sound could penetrate its grace and hint his presence. 

 

"You remember?"  Murasakibara whispered in his ear and Aomine couldn't stop the involuntary shiver running down his spine. 

 

To stop the impending tremble that was sure to grasp his fingers, the tanned male carefully laid down the glass on the counter and subtly cleared his throat before speaking. 

 

"Were you that man I saw... outside the police academy's basketball court?" 

Instead of receiving an answer, Murasakibara asked in return. 

 

"Do you  _remember_?"  He repeated.   

 

No matter how little they've spent time talking all those years ago, Murasakibara felt in his heart that he needed Aomine to recall that day.  The way they've subconsciously built a lingering connection with each other.  The way the twenty-three year old Aomine of his memory had shown him genuine concern not merely for the purpose of fulfilling a responsibility.  That it had personally made them both curious.  Curious in a way they couldn't decipher each other's thoughts.   

And Murasakibara strongly believed there was a reason why they met at that moment of his life.  Because what Aomine had shown him then made him realize why he needed to accept his fate as a Yakuza leader.  That there was more he could accomplish in taking the role than simply following the footsteps of his family before him. 

 

"Not exactly... I—"  Aomine turned his head slightly to the side.  "I want to know.  Is Mura your name?" 

 

There were a few moments of silence. 

 

"Mura... is the short term for  _Murasakibara_."  He answered. 

 

The sudden jerk of the blue head was expected.   

 

Murasakibara could tell Aomine had instantly recognized what his name entailed.  Although his clan had a series of reputation from bad to worse of the worst in the days when they have strongly gone against the government, their involvement aided many international concerns faced by the country as well; to the point they even honored them with a ridiculous title as  _hero_  of the underworld.   

By the time his grandfather had taken the seat as clan alpha, he had changed the course of their organization's pledge to seek for goals that helped Japan instead of adding weight in the country's fight against corrupt officials.  It took several painstaking years before they've gained what little trust they have till now as no one can tell for sure if they have completely washed their hands of their "past" records.  Only a hypocrite would hope for it anyway.  And ten years prior to Murasakibara's own time as clan alpha, their name had been proclaimed as head of other yakuza families.  Which in turn ultimately described the kind of influence the current heir now possessed.  

 

… 

 

Aomine didn't know how to feel now that he have gained knowledge about the other man.  Murasakibara didn't have to elaborate anything regarding his family.  As an officer of the law, lists of names from different categoricalinvestigationshave always been briefed to them.  Endless records have been continuously distributed from branch to branch.  What little information they get their hands on big organizations and the people involved within have been passed over and over again; circulating within national security offices like wildfire that can't seem to be taken down.   

And yet here he was, getting himself right into the clutches of none other than the head of a notorious family.  It may even be possible that he was the sole officer to have come face to face with the infamous clan leader. 

 

When Murasakibara had taken his moment of shock earlier as a chance to make him breathless with kisses, Aomine found himself fighting with boneless resistance against the solid frame of the taller man.  He had incessantly cursed his lack of raw power and determination to keep his unyielding state of mind.  It almost felt akin to a wake up call—that he was still weak; that his strength wasn't enough.  He couldn't deflect the yakuza's advances.  And instead,  to his utter horror, his body was beginning to adapt to the man's touches—recognizing its familiarity in contact with his skin and flesh, the sensuality of his caresses, and making him feel like an entity separated from its body.  A detached character that seem to have always been present in him and yet had been mockingly ignored. 

 

Murasakibara had taken him again right on the spot where he ignored the lunch he had been trying to make.  The man had swiftly turned him then so they were facing each other and effortlessly lifted him up over the kitchen counter as he slid down his shorts.  Aomine barely remembered when they have finished; his mind too overworked that it had fallen into a standstill.  Only,  it was his body that could always trace back through all those touches and kisses.  It didn't matter if he welcomed them willingly or not.  What bothered him most was the fact that Murasakibara's warmth now made him feel secured.  As if every time the other man held him, he was being protected.  It sounded ridiculous and even foolish, seeing as the man had  _purchased_ him for whatever he had planned to do.  But then Aomine hasn't exactly seized the opportunity to speak with Murasakibara as well—to demand the reason why he had bought him in the first place and why he was even participating in the disgusting event. 

 

 _Has he already bought a person other than him?  If_ _so,_ _where_ _was that person now?_  

 

 _Were he just going to be tossed aside once he was used up?_ _Or after he has_ _completed_ _payment for all what his Dad borrowed for years?_ He wanted to laugh just at the idea.  The deal seemed to be realistically impossible.  Else,  it could only mean he was owned for the rest of his life.  His fate sealed without him having a say in it. 

 

 _What_ _then_ _would happen to his mother?_ _He hasn't been able to call her for over a week now..._  

 

Aomine gathered his wits and finished wiping the beads of water still clinging onto his skin.  After dressing up, he went out of the bathroom and was welcomed with the sight of the other man already suited up in a complete formal ensemble.   

Murasakibara's hair was slicked back with a few stray bangs touching his forehead, making his eyes look sharper and calculating.  Aside from the bespoke suit, he also wore a charcoal overcoat that perfectly framed his profile.  An intricate silver ring with an onyx eye glimmered on his right middle finger while what looked like a chain dangled around his hand.     

 

The question of where the man was going and how long it would take this time was at the tip of Aomine's tongue. 

 

Their eyes met. 

 

Murasakibara then finished clipping on his cufflinks and walked towards Aomine.  He tilted the tanned man's chin and leaned in to capture his lips in a brief but deep kiss.  

 

"I don't know how long I'll take but I'll come back as soon as I can."  He said as he placed the chain around the man's neck and snapped the lock in place.  The pendant rested right in between his clavicles. 

 

Aomine kept silent despite the foreign material felt like cold fingers lingering on his skin. 

 

"Same as before... Use the phone when you feel the need to.  There's only one number in it." 

 

When Aomine still didn't speak, Murasakibara dropped a kiss on his hair.   

 

"And please...don't remove the necklace."  He whispered.  

 

Murasakibara didn't grab anything this time before he left. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, it may take awhile for the last part. But as always please be patient as I'm a lazy ass writer. TeeHee XD
> 
> Comments are loved!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you everyone for reading! I hope you like and enjoy this! <3
> 
> Also, I'm gonna create a series where you can enjoy BottomAomine goodness; entitled: "Bring Me Into Your Arms".  
> I'll be "experimenting" on different pairings. Maybe. TeeHee XD


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